A Pathetic Attempt at a Birthday
by Epo-9KX
Summary: Just what it says. My rusty and generally sleepy, poorly written fanfic for my birthday.


Author's Note: AHHHHH IT'S BEEN SOO LONGG I haven't updated for a year and what I'm not even a Transfan anymore... But the movie's coming out... :((( Ahaha but I'll try with whatever's left of my TF knowledge to finish off my fanfics for you, especially the ones I already planned out, like Bloodthirsty. Meanwhile here's what's probably my last Transformers fanfic I'll ever start... and it's for my birthday, third year running :) Starring me as OC. Let's call me... Kacci. Interesting twist on a common name.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers... or any knowledge of them... also it's 11:38 as I start this so I'm not sure whether to say it's four days late or five days late...

* * *

"Hey."

He turned to face me, swivelling around and scooping me up in one servo.

"What do you want with me, little one? Why aren't you at your own birthday party?"

I cocked my head.

"Technically, it's a birthday ANNIVERSARY. Humans are only born once."

Thundercracker smiled, and set me down in his lap.

"Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

I think, once I started talking, he wished I'd gone for the second option.

* * *

Ten years after Cybertron had been restored, and the two factions reunited as a race, the planet was thriving and any chance for celebration was welcomed. And thus, there was a party held for me, one of those "squishies" who happened to have befriended one Cybertronian, ironically, the only other bot not present. Another party. Another day wasted looking out for everyone and taking all the overly drunk ones home.

* * *

"Starscream, get off the table."

"Aww, but... Are you saying you don't like my heels?"

"Starscream..."

"Well I'm staying right where I am, then! You can't stop me!"

My attempt to call Skywarp to take him home resulted in two enthusiastic Seekers dancing off-beat on a table.

* * *

A servo grabbed me and I was whisked into a dark corridor. My captor stood perfectly still, and I was able to recognise him in the dull light.

"Sunstreaker-"

"Shhh."

"What's going on-"

"I said, shut up, squishy."

I did as I was told, and ten full minutes of silence later, the mech holding me stripped off his outer armour.

"Great!" Sideswipe laughed. "My Sunstreaker disguise works great!"

* * *

"Bulkhead, I needed that!"

Ratchet and Raf, those involved in creating a cake, glared at Bulkhead, who stood sheepishly with bits of icing crumbling off his fingers.

"Oops, my bad."

* * *

"Well," smiled Thundercracker. "I understand why you left, then."

"Yep," I staccatoed.

He sighed and moved into a more comfortable position.

"You know, Kacci... They're good characters, really. All of them. They just get carried away sometimes."

"You mean all the time?"

"Well, pretty much. I'd better go in to have a look now. See if those two are as bad as you described."

Thundercracker put me gently on the ground, before getting up and walking in through the doors of doom and definite death by means of Jazz's loud music and terrible dancing.

* * *

I decided to follow Thundercracker in. Bad move.

* * *

Just as I thought this day couldn't get any worse, the lights went out.

The room was silent.

"Um, hello?" I called out. "Is this a power outage or what?"

Two servos grabbed my shoulders.

And then the room erupted into chaos- the lights flare back on, party poppers are popped and whistles are blown. Thundercracker, owner of previously mentioned servos, lifted me up into the air, and Ratchet unveiled the cake, now decorated with fourteen candles- my age precisely.

Hot Shot send a burst of fire at the cake, lighting the candles and scorching some of the icing.

"Happy birthday!" someone shouted, Sideswipe, I think. Jazz started up the music, and Thundercracker threw me into the air as the crowd started up in a song of "Happy Birthday".

"This was all planned?" I asked, surprised at the amount of effort that had been put into making my day as bad as possible so that the finale felt even better.

"Yep," Thundercracker grinned, producing a box from nowhere. "Happy birthday, Kacci."

* * *

Posthumous Author's Note: What terrible writing. I must be rusty. And tired. Maybe the time being past midnight has something to do with it. Happy birthday to me, five days late... you may now wash your eyes with soap and water and rinse away everything you just read.


End file.
